


Eyes full of tinsel and fire

by idioticonion



Category: DreamSMP
Genre: Amnesia, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idioticonion/pseuds/idioticonion
Summary: A Christmas ghost story, set at Technoblade's snowbase.Or, what if Ghostbur sees only what he wants to see?A one-shot.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Eyes full of tinsel and fire

Schlatt was having great fun hanging out near Technoblade’s snowy base and fucking with mobs. Anything that approached him would get a snowball in the face from an invisible foe. Schlatt would immediately run away laughing hysterically, even though his victim couldn’t even see him. They would just hear three short barks of laughter weaving through the snow-covered forest. Techno was starting to complain about his invis potions going missing but it was absolutely worth it. 

When the sky turned a foreboding shade of yellow, threatening more snow, Schlatt made his way back to the house. It was somewhat unsatisfying to glide unsteadily across the surface rather than trudge through the actual drifts, but he’d come to terms with the pros and cons of a spectral existence.

Opening the door, he called out “Hey, it’s me!” before climbing the ladder up into Techno’s loft, following the sound of raised voices.

Phil wasn’t shouting exactly. Phil never really shouted. But tone was laced more heavily than usual with frustration. “No mate, he’s getting worse,” Phil was saying, shaking his head. Techno was standing in the corner of the room, both hands wrapped around an axe, shoulders hunched with tension.

“I honestly can’t tell you if having Tommy here is making it worse,” Techno said, “But it’s making me worse. Phil, you know- you know how difficult it is for me right now. One day I’m just going to do something that boy will regret. I kind of get the temptation just to run away from it all, even if it’s only in Will’s mind.”

“Ach!” Phil exclaimed, throwing up his hands before noticing Schlatt standing here. Schlatt could see Phil making a conscious effort to shake off his anxiety. “Hey dude, have fun?” He asked. 

“Hello…” Techno mumbled, looking away.

Schlatt laughed. “Yeah, fun was had. And I got some supplies from the villagers. They seemed less scared of me than the previous time.”

Phil gave him a half smile but his features were pinched with tension.

“So are you expecting him back anytime soon?” Schlatt asked, feigning a casual tone. “Wilbur. I mean.”

Phil shook his head, lips pinched into a thin line. “I’m not- I don’t know- I don’t know how much longer I can take this. Watching him… oblivious of everything. Saying the worst things, like he doesn’t know. And every time.” Phil covered his face with one hand, and Schlatt looked away. Phil was a proud man, but to see him driven to this level of despair was difficult to watch, even for such hardened bastards as Schlatt and Techno.

“Well, I’m out of ideas, you know that.” Techno said, despondently. “Maybe if we had someone here that has some, you know, actual empathy, we might have a chance. But we’re the worst bunch of people to deal with Wilbur’s issues.”

Schlatt sighed. It was true. It might help to ask someone like Niki, or even Tubbo, but neither of them would be inclined to help. Their log cabin really was a home to the misfits, the outcasts and the hunted. Phil was the only one of them with a shred of human dignity and he was crumbling from the strain.

“Well Wilbur seems to gravitate to Tommy, maybe we just leave the two of them together for a while? Give the adults some respite.” Techno suggested in leaden tones.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Phil said, his voice hitching. “In fact, it’d probably be even more chaotic.”

Schlatt snorted. “Yeah, you seen the ugly fucking build they got going next door? Jeez.” He rolled his eyes.

“Case in point, man,” Phil replied, sitting down heavily, head in his hands. “But it’s your house, Techno. We’re guests here.”

From down below them, they could faintly hear a bell ringing. Tommy was probably bored. A bored Tommy and an unpredictable Wilbur was not a great combination for anybody’s health.

Then Techno stiffened. “He’s here,” he said, nostrils twitching, moments before they all heard the creak of the front door opening.

“It’d be just our luck for Dream to pay a visit right now,” Schlatt muttered.

Phil flashed him an irritated look. “Don’t even joke about that,” he said as the three of them descended the ladder.

“Hello,” Wilbur said, brightly, holding the door which he had pulled off its hinges.

“Jesus, Will!” Phil snapped angrily, nodding to Techno who took the door from Wilbur’s hands and went to work fixing it back into the frame.

Will completely ignored it, eyes lighting up as he saw Schlatt standing there. “Friend!” He exclaimed, walking over to Schlatt and stooping a little so he can look him in the eye. “How has friend been, Phil?” He asked.

“Dude.” Phil said, but then sighed as Will gave him a guileless, enquiring smile. “He’s okay, Ghostbur. He’s standing right there. You can see he’s okay.”

“I’m fine, buddy,” Schlatt said, but as always, Wilbur’s eyes seemed to slide right over him, seeing him but not really seeing him. “Wilbur?” He tried again, but Wilbur just handed him a rock of blue pigment telling him to calm himself. It took all of Schlatt’s willpower not to back up, getting flashbacks of the time Wilbur tried to “shear” him. It wasn’t as if he could die properly, being a ghost, but that was one painful respawn.

“Has friend eaten?” Wilbur said, completely ignoring Schlatt again and asking Phil.

“Yeah, I had some fucking Chinese food!” Schlatt snapped at him, sarcastically. “I’m a ghost Will. I’m like you. Somewhere in that mixed up zombie head of yours you know that.”

But Will just smiled, not even noticing the pain in Phil’s eyes as he waited for his father to answer.

God knows, Schlatt got it. He understood the obligation Phil felt, and it wasn’t like Phil hadn’t tried to talk to Will. But there came a point where they had all just had to accept the fact that Will wasn’t getting any better, and that rather than upset him, it was better to humour him.

Tommy, however, hadn’t quite got the message.

The younger sibling poked his head up from the basement with a big grin on his face. “Ghostbur! Ma frieeeeend!” He yelled excitedly. His energy, which used to be infectious, was now just exhausting to everyone other than Wilbur. “Where have you been! We have so much on the list. Follow me, follow me…” And he surged up into the main room.

“Can I bring Friend?” Wilbur asked, eyes darting nervously to Schlatt, as if to check he was still there.

“Oh, Hi Glatt!” Tommy said, with a grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

Schlatt raised one hand in a half-wave but didn’t say anything.

Phil let out a huge sigh. “Will, Tommy. I think we need a talk.”

“Aw!” Tommy whined. “Can’t we do that later. Ghostbur and me, we’ve got shit to do, women to see. So many women. Can we go to the Nether, Ghostbur?”

Will seemed to zone out for a moment. “Yes, but I will leave Friend here. The Nether is not a good place for Friend. He might be hurt.”

“Fuck you, Wilbur,” Schlatt growled.

“Please will you look after Friend, Phil?” Wilbur called out, as he followed Tommy through the door, which Technoblade was still fixing.

“He’s an adult, Will. He can look after himself!” Phil called out, giving Schlatt an apologetic glance. But Will and Tommy had already left.

*--*--*

“It’s not an improvement,” Phil said, as he, Schlatt and Technoblade sat down to eat. “Will graduating from forgetting Schlatt every time he saw him, to thinking he’s some kind of pet, that’s definitely not an improvement. Well, I suppose, he didn’t try and kill you this time. Sorry, mate.”

Schlatt shrugged. It was all the same to him. “It’s not like I’ve not done my share of killing. ‘Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone’, and all that bullshit.”

Techno snorted.

“Maybe if we could figure out why he doesn’t remember you, we could help him,” Phil said, but it was a suggestion he’d put forward many times before. They’d tried everything, examined every angle. “I mean, there was a time when we thought he genuinely couldn’t see you?”

Techno shook his head. “No, I think Will could always see Schlatt, at the beginning, just after the… war… he was a lot more stable. More rational. They all were, before they held that funeral.”

“It is what it is.” Schlatt said, staring at his food but not eating. He didn’t really need to eat. It just made other people feel better to see him try. “You know I swallowed my fucking pride and tried to talk to Quackity. He literally screamed and tried to kill me with a crossbow.” Schlatt shook his head. “There’s so many of them now, ones I don’t know. Fucking… Captain Puffy, and Ranboo. I don’t think anything I try to do is helping.”

“But we have to keep trying, right?” Phil said, a little desperately. “Guys?”

The wind howled outside. It was snowing heavily, fat flakes falling and blanketing the ground in white. Schlatt shivered. At least Will was safe – either in the Nether, or back in Manberg. They wouldn’t chance a journey in the snow. Even Tommy wasn’t that stupid.

“Let’s get some sleep.” Techno suggested. “And tomorrow let’s start building another house. A good one. You guys are cramping my style,” he said with a huff, eyes twinkling with humour.

Phil nodded, although his shoulders were slumped. Schlatt could feel the fatigue dragging both men down.

“Yeah.” Techno repeated as he got to his feet. “Go to bed, Phil.” And as he locked eyes with Schlatt, just for a moment, the ghost could see the genuine worry reflected there. Techno rarely worried. If something was bothering him he’d work to fix it, slowly diligently, but he’d get there. Slow and steady, he’d win the race.

Schlatt had never known Techno to lose anything. But perhaps now he was going to have to learn how.

*--*--*

It had stopped snowing. Schlatt was sitting on the porch, looking out into the night, crossbow in hand, taking pot shots at any hostiles that came in range. Then, as midnight came and went, he saw torches in the distance.

“Shit, I’m tired!” Tommy’s voice carried across the snow. “I can’t believe I forgot it was Christmas Eve. We should have decorated!”

“I can do that tonight if your like,” Ghostbur suggested in that overly-helpful tone of his. “I can even make some presents.”

“Cool! Can you? Awesome!” Tommy replied enthusiastically.

“Of course, if it will make you happy?” Wilbur said. “Do you think it will make Phil happy? Phil seems sad lately.”

Tommy snorted. “He’s an old man and a pussy, don’t worry about it Ghostbur. Presents are Poggers and everyone knows that.”

Schlatt couldn’t help but smile, until he heard Wilbur say, “I could even make a present for Friend!” before catching sight of him. “Friend!” Wilbur called out, alarmed. “How did you get outside? You’ll catch your death of cold” Tutting, he grabbed Schlatt by his blue, woollen sweater before dragging him indoors.

“Phil!” Wilbur called out, and Schlatt tried to hush him.

“Fuck! Wilbur will you quieten down? Don’t you dare wake Phil,” Schlatt said in an urgent, angry whisper. “Just for once just have some fucking consideration!”

Amazingly, Wilbur seemed to hear him, and shut his mouth.

“Night Ghostbur, goodnight, Glatt!” Tommy called out as he passed them, disappearing into his sub-basement, and leaving the two ghosts alone.

“And while I got your attention, will you stop fucking treating me like an animal!” Schlatt hissed, trying to keep his voice low.

Will was staring at him, mouth slightly open. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, but Schlatt anticipated.

“Don’t you dare!” He said, heatedly. “Don’t you dare give me fucking blue!” He grabbed Wilbur’s hand as the other man pulled it out of his pocket and wrapped both of his around Wilbur’s single fist. “Don’t you dare avoid this. Look at me!”

Wilbur looked up at him, blinking.

“It’s me Will,” Schlatt said, desperately. “You keep forgetting me. We’ve had this conversation so many times. So fucking many. But it’s me. Will. It’s me. Yes, I’m your friend, but I’ve fucked up way more times than you, in worse ways than you. So you fucking blew up L’Manberg. Boo-fucking-hoo. Who gives a fuck? You think anyone cares? They moved on. They’ve got their own drama. They don’t care about us anymore. No one cares, except Phil, and its tearing him apart. You’ve got to- got to-“ He takes a breath, blinking away phantom tears. He can’t really cry anymore. He can’t do anything. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feels like his throat is closing up with emotion. He takes a breath. “We’re both dead. Will. Wilbur. Please remember. Dude, you don’t want to see me beg.”

There was a long, long pause. And then… “Schlatt?” Wilbur said, wonderingly.

“Yeah,” Schlatt said, with a sniff. “Yeah, it’s me. Schlatt.”

“I- I don’t want to remember,” Wilbur said, “I didn’t want to remember. Anything bad. Anything that hurt people. I hurt people. Everybody hated Alive-me.”

Schlatt couldn’t help but smirk and roll his eyes at that. “Not everyone. Even now.”

Wilbur gave him a watery smile. “You did. You must have hated me. You exiled me. You were supposed to be my friend.”

Shrugging, Schlatt sighed. “Yeah, in retrospect that was a dick move. Sorry. I wish I could take it back, yadda yadda. But I can’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very dead, so I think I got my comeuppance.”

Schlatt could see the pain in Wilbur’s eyes as the memory hit him and he wished for a moment that he could spare his friend, but it was better to get everything out on the table. After all, this wasn’t the first time they’d had a similar conversation. Schlatt just hoped to God it would stick this time.

“You died,” Will said. “I didn’t remember any of it. Anything at all.”

Schlatt nodded. “Yeah, and if you hated me so much why wouldn’t me dying, alone and in fucking pain, be a good memory for you?”

Wilbur was silent for a moment, and Schlatt could practically hear the cogs turning in his head before he finally responded. “You know why.”

Schlatt nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I do know, Wilbur.”

Will reached out and lay a gentle hand on Schlatt’s arm, a tentative touch, a step toward reconciliation.

Schlatt opened his mouth to say something more but then changed his mind. “Happy Christmas,” he whispered instead.

“Do you-?” Wilbur swallowed; his voice equally low. “Do you want to help me decorate?” There was so much meaning in the way he said it, in his tone, in his imploring eyes. And Schlatt was just so tired to fighting.

“Yeah.” He said, and they headed out into the silent, freezing night.

*--*--*

The next morning, Phil, Techno and Tommy woke to a landscape blanketed in a fresh covering of soft snow, and a Christmas Tree in front of the house, presents piled high beneath its green bows.

“Well, there goes the real estate value in the neighbourhood,” Techno said, mournfully.

“Oh shush!” Phil laughed as Tommy sped by them, pulling on his coat.

“Are you kidding?” The boy whooped. “This is the shit!” He then yelled out, ear-splittingly loudly, “Thanks Ghostbur!”

Shielding his eyes from the glare of the sunlight on snow, Phil followed Tommy out of the house. Looking around him, he smiled until he caught sight of Wilbur, sitting in the snow, next to the bee farm. Nodding to Techno, he made his way over to his ghostly son, until he could see that Wilbur was holding a book.

“Will?” Phil said, taking the book from Will’s hands when he got no response. Will didn’t even look up at him as Phil opened the book, eyes scanning the pages quickly.

“Is Friend okay?” Will asked.

Phil took one, shuddering breath as he finished reading the scrawled handwriting.

“He’s gone somewhere better, Will,” Phil said, voice wobbling. “He’s gone to a better place. He’s not coming back.”

And finally Will looked up at him, eyes blank, innocent as a child’s. “Is Friend okay?” He asked again.

Phil reached out, but with a heavy heart, he stopped himself. “Don’t you worry, son. Everything is going to be fine.” And as he helped Will to his feet, he pocketed the notebook Schlatt had left behind, patting it absently.

Will had forgotten everything again, it seemed. And by Christ, what Phil wouldn’t give to be able to forget himself.


End file.
